


Come and Lie Down

by SaltCore



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: (technically christmas fic), Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-20
Updated: 2018-12-20
Packaged: 2019-09-23 05:17:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,011
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17074127
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SaltCore/pseuds/SaltCore
Summary: The snow is falling, all danger is past, and there's nothing to do but be in each other's company on a snowy evening.





	Come and Lie Down

**Author's Note:**

> It might be passe to recommend music for a fic, but if you do that kind of thing I recommend "Vanilla Pines" by Tow'rs.

As the day fades, the light filtering through the snowfall outside takes on a strange quality, making the landscape outside the window otherworldly. The pines look heavy and dark where the snow hasn’t stuck, like solemn soldiers standing guard instead of trees. The snowflakes drift down between them, unhurried in their journey to the ground. Already the snow is thick, softening the edges of everything outside.

It’s beautiful, in that cold way winter can be. Lying on an old couch in front of a gently popping fire, Hanzo finds this cabin warm enough, a perfect place to contemplate the scene outside. The flames gild everything inside in a warm, orange glow, contrasting what lies on the other side of the window. The cabin is a homey kind of place, though a thoroughly Western kind of rustic in nature.

The snow started not long after he and Jesse arrived here, and by tomorrow this part of the mountains will be truly treacherous. Luckily for them, they need not traverse it. The rick of fire wood outside is as far as they must travel for at least two more days.

For the moment, Hanzo intends to go nowhere at all. He settled here after he finished dinner, and there’s been no reason to move since. The couch is surprisingly comfortable, and the fire hasn’t needed attention. Even if it did, Jesse’s taken interest with an almost boyish enthusiasm. Hanzo’s happy to let him play with it.

Speaking of Jesse—

The door opens, letting a rush of cold in, then shuts again. A few heavy thumps sound as Jesse knocks his boots clean, then there’s the barely there sound of his footsteps. Hanzo tracks his path around the cabin by the small noises he makes. His boots hitting the floor together, removed for the night. The clink of two glasses. The soft scraping as he moves things around the counter.

All sounds of his partner at ease in his surroundings, so Hanzo continues watching the snowfall. He might venture into the woods tomorrow morning, see the pine forest draped in crystalline finery. The fire crackles as a log falls. Sparks bounce against the screen. Then again, he might not. Walking in it will spoil it.

Besides, Jesse wouldn’t come with him out into the cold simply for the sake of it.

Jesse appears beside the couch, preceded by the sweet, heavy scent of tobacco smoke.  Hanzo tears his eyes away from the window to look up at him. He has a drink in each hand, whiskey by the look but with something extra by the smell.

Hanzo pushes himself up and accepts his glass, murmuring his thanks. Jesse settles onto the couch in the space Hanzo vacated, propping himself up against the overstuffed arm of the couch with the help of some faded throw pillows. He slides one leg between Hanzo and the couch back and kicks the other out on the floor. Hanzo lays back down on top of him, careful of his drink. Jesse’s clothes still carry a faint chill from the outdoors. Still smell heavily of smoke.

Jesse lays one arm over Hanzo’s chest. Hanzo reaches up and laces their fingers together. Something about having Jesse against his back drains the last of the tension Hanzo had been carrying in his shoulders. It had been an exceedingly long day, even by Hanzo’s standards. It should by rights have ended in some dingy apartment, but instead their safe house in this little cabin, buried deep in the woods. It belongs to Fareeha’s father, of all people. Completely off the grid. The smoke coming out of the chimney might give them away to anyone close, but they have put hundreds of kilometers between themselves and any possible pursuers.

For now, this is their little slice of nowhere. They are far from civilization. Far from any obligation. They might be the only people in the world, ensconced here with the fire, blanketed by the snow.

Hanzo lifts the glass to his lips. Tastes the whiskey he expected—a bourbon, faintly sweet on its own—but with honey and spices too. It warms his throat, then his chest, sweet and smooth. Hanzo hums his appreciation; Jesse squeezes his fingers.

A consuming sort of calm that has nothing to do with the whiskey falls over Hanzo. There is nothing to do but lie here, warm and safe, Jesse at his back, and simply be. He can’t remember the last time he felt this kind of contentment. Perhaps never.

He takes another sip of the drink Jesse made. Made unprompted, simply because he wanted to. Jesse’s love is a thousand small things just like that. Like the snowflakes outside, the gestures pile up and smooth over jagged landscape in Hanzo’s heart.

How did Hanzo come to have this?  Come to have him?

Hanzo sets the glass on the floor and reaches back to tangle his fingers in Jesse’s hair. Cranes his neck to see him. Jesse meets his gaze with heavy lidded eyes, the good kind of tired. Hanzo twists a little more and leans in to taste Jesse’s liquor spiced lips. He feels more than hears Jesse’s pleased hum. Hums back when Jesse opens his mouth.

So often, Hanzo feels greedy in his kisses. Like he’s taking what he can while he can. Now, not so much. Now it’s as if he’s drinking from a well that will never empty. He can take the time to have his fill and feels assured there will be more later.

When Hanzo finally pulls away, Jesse is smiling.

“Merry Christmas to you too.”

“Isn’t it the twentieth?”

Jesse chuckles and presses another quick kiss to Hanzo’s temple.

“Close enough.”

Hanzo huffs and barely tugs at Jesse’s hair, then finally lets it go, reaching for his drink again. Takes another sip. It really is good, whatever cocktail this is. He glances out the window, but it’s getting dark. Still, from what he can see the snow hasn’t let up.

Good.

He’d be happy to stay here a long while yet.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!


End file.
